Snake Bread Love

"Life is a clever serpent. It captures one at the moment of conception; it lets go only at death. One struggles in its coils. On some days, it tightens its grip until the breath almost leaves the body; on other days, its tether is so loose that one can imagine floating free to the peace of the silence. Without Tygra's companionship, I tire easily from this fight. I cannot predict when my lover will come to me and restore my strength."

Her opinion voiced, the mystic drank green Berbil tea from her favorite cup. The spicy aroma from the rising steam pleasantly scented the dining hall. The drifting clouds visible through the windows high above her toyed with the sunlight entering the chamber. The wavering shadows matched her uncertainty.

"'Palma non sine pulvere'," Althea commented dryly. "That is what the ancients would have us believe: 'The palm is not won without dust.' Since the architect's return, you have thought only of his needs and not of your own desires. That is the reason you tire. You have shown by your fortitude that you possess the ability to persevere in times of trouble. Your strength is not dependant on Tygra, but merely augmented through the bond that you share with him."

The tigress regarded the middle-aged woman who daintily dipped her buttered bread into her cup of tea. After each tiny bite, she patted her lips dry with a cloth napkin. Her feminine manner belied the toughness of her spirit. The silver-haired starborn had spoken with the authority of one who had forged a partnership with life through a vigorous acceptance of the teaching it provided.

"I have respected the privacy that Tygra has required to readjust to living in the Lair. No matter my desires, I cannot force him to venture beyond the wall of his solitude if he is not ready to accept my love. That would constitute a violation of my oath."

The elder frowned in disgust. The brown star marking her brow wrinkled as she contemplated the mystic's reply. Althea finally answered, "Your approach to the problem is forthright, and that is where you err. Instead, be indirect. If you ignore Tygra, he will come to you out of curiosity. Love, unlike life, is a gentler python, and it will take hold of him before he has realized that it has captured him. Once the architect is ensnared by its healing grasp, he will not escape even if he is given the chance. That should satisfy your oath, Talitha, and your need."

The mystic watched the flakes of tea floating in her cup and pondered her friend's suggestion. Sixty suns have passed since Tygra's return from exile. He has settled back into the rhythms of this household in his own way. Because of my concern, I have walked carefully around him, have acceded to his demands, and, ultimately, have wasted my energy worrying needlessly about his welfare.

Everyone in this Lair has taken from me, the tigress decided. I have not begrudged them their need, but it is necessary for me to take time for myself. Perhaps, in being a little selfish, I will also make a path for Tygra to follow that leads to my bed. A break from my duties would be welcome, but what can I do that will not adversely affect the Lair? I can never completely set aside my responsibility as a healer.

Talitha finished her tea, then said to the starborn, "You have given me excellent counsel. I do need a reprieve from my work and worry. I must find an appropriate way to achieve this important goal."

"Indeed, and that is why I am here," Althea replied with a chuckle. The woman pulled a piece of papyrus from a pocket in her grey robe. "Orin, the Tabbot merchant, delivered this to me yesterday as he passed by my house. He was on his way to the Wolo village to do some trading. By tomorrow, he will begin his journey back to Tabbia. The letter is from my husband. Aidan went to the city last moon. Since that time, he has awaited a ship that will transport Xerxes, his nephew, from Hellas to Tabbia. The youth will come to live with us, and one day, our kinsman will assume complete guardianship of the unicorns. Aidan and I will then be free to return home.

"Now according to my husband's note, Xerxes has finally arrived, and it appears that my assistance is requested. His nephew has decided to bring his library with him. It will take at least three carts to transport it back to the house. Aidan would prefer that I handle one cart because he distrusts the drivers of Tabbia. He has asked that I make special arrangements and return with Orin, or that I send an individual whom I can trust to manage the third cart."

The mystic absorbed the starborn's comments with growing interest. What arrangement can she make that will allow her to leave? Althea has pledged, like Aidan, to protect the unicorns. One of them must always remain near the herd.

Talitha traced the octopus design on her cup with her blunted claws. She had recently trimmed them when it had become necessary for her to help a balkin during a difficult birth. She tapped the bulbous head of the sea creature as an insight dawned in her mind. Althea will ask me to go to Tabbia in her place! I enjoyed my last visit to the city by the sea. No better place for a change of scenery exists.

More possibilities sparked her thinking. Cheetara can come with me to help Aidan and his nephew. We can take the Thundertank. It can hold a room's worth of books. She immediately dismissed the warning in her mind that advised that Panthro would object to their use of his vehicle. With rising anticipation, Talitha asked, "Have you reached a decision?"

The starborn smiled broadly. The tips of her pointed ears quivered slightly with excitement. "Certainly! I will meet with my husband, then scour the shops in Tabbia. Xerxes and Aidan will have to wait until I am ready to leave for home. Imagine that youngster bringing all of his books! Where will Aidan and I find the space? Excluding the antechamber, the cottage has but three rooms."

"There is always the stable," Talitha replied with a sarcasm that hid the disappointment in her voice. She had learned how to drive a wagon at her father's side, and could have easily met Aidan's stiff requirement.

"Good idea. Xerxes can bed down with the horses. We can store his books with ours in the room that we have planned to convert into his bed chamber."

Despite her disillusionment, the mystic giggled at Althea's righteous response. The pleasant company the older woman afforded had often diverted her mind from her troubles. Has she decided that I should guard the unicorns? she thought with nervous expectation.

"I suppose you are wondering how all this applies to you?"

"Actually, I--"

"It's quite simple: I need someone to tend my house, to water my garden and to see to my precious unicorns while I am away. Will you accept? As the unicorn mistress, I have the power to anoint a temporary guardian by magical means. The mark that I will set upon your brow can be easily removed once Aidan and I return. By the gods I worship, I can promise you that neither your mystic oath, your healing abilities, nor your bond to Tygra will be in jeopardy. Consider the peaceful surroundings near my home. The quiet and seclusion would certainly help you to relax."

The mystic agreed, "It's a marvelous idea, but...."

"A problem?"

"Slythe destroyed my magical staff. I now have but a simply crafted one for protection. Although their numbers have lessened, renegade Mutants still roam the land. I cannot imagine that Lion-o would permit me to stay by myself at your home...unless I could convince him that no danger exists to threaten me. You have been alone since Aidan's departure, and nothing evil has befallen you."

"On that point, you need not worry. The house has safeguards that you can employ at night, and I will teach you how to use them."

"But outside the house--"

"You will also be safe. Long have the unicorn guardians worked with the higher creatures of the forest, those of the earth and the sky. The strong protect the weak. As a guardian, you will be responsible for the safety of my delicate unicorns. The fiercer beasts of the wood will listen to you, and at your bidding, they will help you. Even within the Forest of Silence, you will be able to communicate with these animals once the star rests on your brow. You will also have the use of my staff. Upon command, it will shield you with a shell of light that no weapon or enemy can pierce. So you see, no harm can come to you."

The mystic had been aware of the simple hearth magic that the starborn couple had often employed in her presence. That they possessed a greater magic surprised the tigress. Talitha considered her friend's offer and the possible objections that Tygra might make. Reaching a decision quickly before she had a chance to change her mind, she said, "I accept your proposal. Let's speak to Lion-o. If he agrees, I will accompany you back to your home this very day."

"And what of Tygra?" Althea asked. "Convincing him to allow you to leave the Lair will be quite difficult."

"Let us tackle one stubborn obstacle at a time!"

*****

"It has been some time since I have spoken at length with Lion-o," Althea remarked. "He has changed. He possesses an air of confidence and maturity that was not present last summer. He listened to us respectfully and did not interrupt our presentation. When he finally spoke it was with the voice of a king. I am pleased that he gave you leave to stay at my house."

"But I wish he had not insisted that I tell Tygra of my plans. It would have been so much easier for me to depart if he had taken on that task," Talitha replied with gloom. "A word from Tygra could upset everything."

They stopped before the door to the architect's quarters. The starborn touched the mystic's shoulder lightly. "Be firm, my sister. And remember that I am at your call if you should need me. I shall stay near."

"Thank you." Talitha drew courage from her friend's wise brown eyes. The starborn pointed to the end of the hall, then retreated down the passage. The woman entered a side corridor. Only the tip of her boots protruded from her hiding place.

Talitha muttered to herself, "Mrísena guide me." She gently knocked on the door.

"Who!" The hidden voice resounded with annoyance.

"Talitha."

The speaker softened. "Enter, dear one."

It took Talitha a moment to find Tygra amidst the clutter. The architect had spread reams of computer printouts on the floor. He sat by a low wooden table placed near the foot of his bed. Its surface was completely obscured by more papers.

Tygra flopped back onto several red cushions spread over an oval rug. "I will never find the mistake in this program!" he howled. He rubbed his eyes, then stretched. "The more I stare at the figures, the more things blur."

The mystic squatted by his side, her feet disappearing under the hem of her blue robe. "You have worked too hard," she said. "Let it alone for several hours and give yourself a rest. The Lair is in no danger of collapsing."

He rolled onto his abdomen, and looked at his mate. The edge of his black tunic rode up his thighs and almost revealed his firm buttocks. "This program was my clever idea to improve system efficiency. Until the problem is corrected, we are wasting our resources. Our stock of thundrillium is getting lower by the minute. If I don't fix the program soon, we will have to put everything on hold and go into the mountains to replenish our supply. I'm an architect, not a miner!"

"You are also a healer, but as usual, you have dismissed this fact," she remonstrated, giving him a light cuff on his chin. "This is the punishment for your pride. You should have let Panthro do the programming. After all, he is the engineer. I'm glad that, with Lion-o's approval, he is allowing you to solve this problem by yourself. He has taught you a special lesson."

The architect snorted and turned back to his work. He ran his hand through his short mane in frustration. The thick multicolored strands had finally lengthened just enough to reach the tips of his pointed ears. Tygra scratched the corners of his jaw furiously to alleviate an itch that had flared in recent days to an uncomfortable level. The tiger said testily, "If you don't need anything from me, I suggest you leave. I have work to do."

The mystic stood and brushed the wrinkles from her robe. "Althea visited today. I just came to tell you that I am accompanying her back home. I will be staying at her cottage...for a few days. I--"

"Fine. Have a pleasant time," Tygra snapped. The architect bent over his work. Mumbling each figure to himself, he ran his left hand down a column of numbers.

Enmeshed in his own concerns, he hadn't noticed the hesitation in her voice. Mindful of his disregard, Talitha decided that she had revealed everything that he needed to know. Since he has no further interest in what I have to say, I will remain silent, she thought with vexation. He has earned another lesson. He can find out at his leisure that I have told him but a partial truth. I was willing to tell him all, but now I have the perfect excuse not to do so.

"I'll see you soon," she said curtly. Ignoring his affirming grunt, the mystic left his chamber with her conscience appeased.

*****

The piercing cries of hungry nestlings sounded from the tress. Talitha looked up from her reading and noted their complaints. By means of the starborn magic that suffused her, she understood the meaning in each fretful peep.

The mystic closed the leather bound book before her. The soft rays of the morning sun had moved passed the large window of the main room of the cottage, and no longer illuminated the papyrus pages. The words of love inscribed within the tome weighed heavily on heart, for she had no one with which to share the beautiful poems.

The spindly chair upon which she sat, the last of the four that had once surrounded the table, creaked as she stood. Abandoning the book, Talitha walked into the bed chamber. The cool morning breeze fluttered the gauzy curtains that covered an open window. Hard to believe that Althea and Orin only departed at dawn for Tabbia, the tigress decided. In this quiet place, alone as I am, it feels as if they have been gone for a season.

She studied her image in the silver-framed mirror that hung on the wall. The star mark of a unicorn guardian decorated her brow and blackened the light brown streak of fur that patterned her forehead and colored her nose. She gingerly touched the symbol that Althea's magic had placed upon her. After they had journeyed on the previous day from the Lair to her cottage, the starborn had immediately set to work on summoning the magic necessary to anoint her. What in all the seven hells will Tygra think of this when he sees it? Talitha wondered. The mystic waved her hand at the image in the glass. It won't matter what he thinks if he doesn't come to my side, she decided. Besides, I am here for myself, not him. She moved away from the mirror and toward the bed. Reclining on the soft mattress, she rested her head on the feather pillows. Trying to forget her lover, she counted the beams of the ceiling.

When she had completed her tally, Talitha absently fingered the carved crystal dangling on a chain around her neck. The smooth form immediately brought Tygra back into her thoughts. He had presented the crystal to her after his return to the Lair as a symbol of his enduring love. The piece of jewelry held great meaning for him since it had once belonged to Siberan, his father. The clan lord had met an untimely death when Tygra was fourteen. The architect had received the little ornament from a priest of Savar after his awakening. How the talisman had reached the priest so many seasons after his father's demise was a mystery that Tygra had never solved. The sinuous form given to the rare black crystal by its carver designated the wearer as an open spiral, an enlightened warrior who walked on a path chosen by destiny.

"You have never accepted the priest's declaration as to your level of warriorship, Tygra," Talitha said to herself. "Instead, this spiral represents to you the love of your father, and not a warrior's sign of rank. You gave it to me with love. Was it your anger that I felt this morning as Althea and Orin faded into the mists? Have I stained your gift with my tiny rebellion? Surely you must know by now that I am alone in this cottage, and yet you remain silent. You have not sent your thoughts across the miles to me." The mystic gently kissed the crystal. "How I wish that you were here," she admitted quietly.

The whinny of a unicorn followed the changing breeze into the chamber. Beyond the curtain, the mystic detected the smooth movements of the slender beast. They are still wary of me, she decided, judging the apprehension in the stallion's vocalization. They are in my care now, and it is time that I started acting the part of their guardian. Maybe today that pregnant mare will let me get a little closer to her. Her foal is due soon. I would feel better about her condition if she would allow me to scan her.

Leaving the bed, Talitha retrieved the staff that leaned against one wall. The polished wood felt comforting and familiar in her hand. The staff suited her well for Althea shared her measurement in height.

A ray of light bounced off the metal crescent topping the weapon, and illuminated the stone walls. "Let the sun lead my way," Talitha chirped, venturing out of the cottage.

*****

"A duck egg! Must I explore the thickets by the River for wild fowl, and hope to find an infertile egg in order to make a simple loaf!" Talitha took her reed pen and placed it between the pages of the recipe book before closing it. The aging papyrus bound with coarse threads to two worn pieces of leather had seen much use during its existence. Each page bore its own unique collection of stains. "I suppose I should be grateful that Althea has chosen the letters of this region, which I can read, rather than those of her homeland, for keeping her notes," the mystic remarked.

Moving toward the hearth, she set her candlestick on a low stand. Talitha settled herself on the wide chair over which she had draped a colorful blanket. The room carried the faint scent of the fish she had caught in the River and had prepared for her dinner. The violence of the rain that had battered the cottage after sunset had not permitted her to open a window and cleanse the chamber of the odor.

The tigress leaned forward to warm her hands by the fire. The summer storm that had ruined the evening had also chilled the stone dwelling considerably. The mystic watched the tempest through the window. A jagged streak brightened the darkness beyond. She counted the seconds to the roar of thunder. When it came, the burst rattled the stones and timbers.

Unnerved by the commotion, Talitha wrapped the blanket around her body for security. The howling wind sounded like the voices of souls lost between the realms of life and death. How I wish Tygra were here, she decided, then I could get my mind off this heinous weather! She snuggled against the armrest. In each flickering flame of the hearth, she saw her lover. Her eyes brimmed with tears forged by her loneliness. "Have I angered you by leaving, dear one? Such was not my intention. I long for your company. If you would but come to me, I would nourish you in body and spirit," she whispered. "For you I would make the snake bread, a delicious treat favored by lovers."

An explosive roll of thunder jolted her from her somber musings. Angered by the frightful disruption, Talitha shed her fear. "Growl all you want!" she shouted at the storm. "I have more important things to consider than your impotent threats." She strode back to the table, and sat on the old chair. Opening the book, she turned to the recipe she had held in place with her reed. She dipped the writing implement into an ink pot and began to make notes on a slip of papyrus. "It matters not if you stay away. I will pine over you no longer. I will use my time constructively while I am here. Beware Tygra, for when I return to the Lair, I have made it my goal to win you back to my bed one delicious recipe at a time."

*****

"Mrísena help me in this task," the mystic prayed solemnly. "I am a fine healer. I am a good weaver. However, my skill in baking is uneven at best. Let my bread nourish and please all who sample it. If Tygra should taste several pieces, may it also...fire his desire, as the author of this recipe suggests."

Satisfied with her humble request of the Goddess, Talitha drew back the linen covering on her basket. With careful attention, she inventoried the ingredients for bread making and a simple evening meal that she had gathered earlier in the day in the Wolo village. As she placed each item on the table, she made a mark with her pen on a scrap of papyrus that served as her list.

The mystic lifted the final item in her cache gently. "You are a fine one," she said to the egg she cradled in her hand. "Just the thing to make this bread a success." A shadow crossed the sun and suddenly darkened the main chamber. "By the Gods! Didn't last night's storm wash the land sufficiently!" She set the duck egg in a bowl to keep it from rolling across the table. Going to the window, Talitha looked to the sky and noted its grayness. "I had hoped the rain would at least hold off until twilight," she moaned. "It is well that I checked on the unicorn herd and did my shopping while the day was young. I hate getting caught in the rain."

Crossing to the hearth, she pulled on the handle of the metal plate that covered a recess cut into its walls. Taking several branches from a bin, she arranged the wood inside the oven, then lit a fire with the help of a steel knife and a flint. That wood will form good coals by the time this bread is ready to cook, she thought, closing the metal door. She repeated the process with the branches strewn on the hearth's floor. The mystic wiped her hands clean on a towel that she had left on the rim of a metal basin. She took a jar off a shelf on the wall before returning to the table to begin her baking.

Looking into the glass vessel, Talitha appraised the bright orange-red stamens that resembled fine strands of thread. Although Althea said that I could help myself to anything that I required during my stay, I must recompense her for the use of this excellent spice, she decided. It is a rare luxury from the eastern lands that has cost her much. It is the secret component of snake bread that makes this loaf one that lovers share. Not only will this plant give the body texture and color, but folklore makes note of its aphrodisiacal quality. Talitha shook her head sadly, and set the jar down on the table. I hope that Tygra will partake of this treat, but I suspect that I will not see him until after the loaf has gone stale. The mystic slapped the table, and said, "Enough moping, Talitha! In baking, you will find serenity. Begin and know peace."

Using several bowls, the tigress mixed the various ingredients of her recipe while listening to the patter of the rain against the window panes. When the yeast had reached a foamy consistency, she combined all the elements in a large bowl until they formed a thick mass. Sprinkling flour over the table, she kneaded the dough until it became smooth and springy. Content, the mystic placed the mound in a separate greased bowl, then covered the top with a damp cloth.

After cleaning her hands on another cloth, she removed her apron, which she hung over the unsteady chair. She brushed some stray flour off her loose brown tunic and trousers. "Now we wait," she declared. Approaching the fireplace, she took down a metal kettle and a ceramic jug from the shelf, and placed them on the hearth stones. "I deserve some tea for my efforts." Removing the cork from the mouth of the vessel, she filled the kettle with water.

Someone suddenly banged on the cottage door. "Please be patient! I'm coming!" she shouted as she headed into the antechamber. From a side window, she spied the intruder. The wetter he became from the thunderstorm the harder Tygra pounded on the wooden door, until the mystic believed that he would knock it off its hinges. She released the bolts and pulled it open.

Unprepared, the tiger fell forward into the chamber, his hand still balled into a fist from the blow that he had mistakenly delivered to the air. "Snr'y't!" he cursed, hitting the floor hard. He lay panting on the hexagonal tiles, the breath driven from his body by the impact.

After she closed the door, the mystic knelt by her lover's side. "This is what you deserve for being impatient, Tygra" she chided. "Remember and respect that I am a guest here. How would I have explained a splintered door to starborn? Your blows almost made it suitable only for firewood."

He moved stiffly to a kneeling position. "Ne-ne-ver mind m-my failings!" he gasped. "Wh-what of your deception!"

Rising, the mystic gently kicked the tiger's thigh. "I am innocent," she declared. "You dismissed me. You never gave me a chance to tell you everything, so intent were you on your figures."

Before he could contest her response, she quickly added, "Now I am going to have some tea. You are welcome to share some with me." Leaving the entry hall without saying another word, Talitha left her lover lying in a wet puddle on the floor.

She resumed pouring water into the kettle, but listened carefully to the reluctant footfalls made by the tiger. Within seconds, his figure loomed above her. Finishing her work, she matched his steely, angry gaze until his resolve broke. He dropped onto one of the large chairs arranged by the hearth, and picked at the armrests with his claws.

"I don't think that you should distress the furniture, or the starborn will ask us for compensation on the damage that you have caused," Talitha remarked as she stored the water jug. She hooked the teapot on a curving metal stand, so that it hung over the fire. She tossed several branches onto the growing blaze.

"Are you my nursemaid?" Tygra grumbled. Folding his arms, he stared in stubborn silence at the flames. The hairs of his mane bristled with his discontent.

Talitha returned to the ramshackle chair. Studying the brooding architect, she tapped her foot in frustration at the stalemate that had developed between them. So focused had Tygra been on his own agenda that he had not commented on the mark the starborn had left on her brow. Until his fury cooled, she knew that she would not be able to communicate with him in a reasonable manner. I will not give him the fight he wants! she decided. He can sit there in his wet robe with his jaw clenched in self-righteousness until he mildews!

Beads of sweat dampened her mane and made her palms and soles uncomfortably moist. The heat from the fireplace had warmed the room considerably. Walking over to the windows, Talitha opened the end casement. A cooling breeze drifted into the chamber and brought with it fine droplets of water. Standing in the pleasant draft, she breathed deeply of the air scented with rain and flowers, and for a time forgot her temperamental lover.

A cry of distress shattered her peace. A unicorn appeared from the gloom. The stallion's urgent call directed her to follow him into the Forest of Silence.

"What in the seven hells was that!" Tygra cried.

"A unicorn needs my aid," Talitha replied, dashing into the bedroom to retrieve the moon staff and her bag of medicines.

"How can you know?" Tygra asked, rising and grabbing her by the arm as she passed him. His eyes widened in shock. "The symbol of the starborn on your brow! What does this mean, Talitha?"

She wrenched her arm free of his grasp, and bolted for the door. "Come with me into the Forest of Silence and you will learn," she shouted as she fled into the storm.

*****

Talitha pushed through the tangle of wet foliage. Her soaked clothing clung uncomfortably to her body. The sharp rocks battered her sandals and made her passage over the rough terrain increasingly difficult. The rain, to her relief, had finally changed from a torrent to a steady drizzle. The grey sky, barely visible above the canopy, had lightened considerably.

Although only recently acquainted with the uniqueness of starborn magic, the mystic had grown accustomed to the simple truth that her presence in the forest negated for a brief distance the spell of silence. She had become aware that Tygra, despite his immense uneasiness with the magic shielding the unicorn wood, had trailed her. His yelp of surprise at his discovery of the fading magic had reached her ears. His footsteps had indicated that he had tracked her throughout her journey.

The stallion stopped before the mouth of cave. Talitha halted and looked back over her shoulder. A flash of orange against the dark background of the trees made it easy for her to pinpoint Tygra. "I can see you and hear you so you might as well come forward!" she shouted to her lover.

Without waiting to see what he would do, the mystic turned her attention back to the unicorn. The white tuft of his long, straight tail was the last part of his body to disappear into the recess. From within the cave, a nicker of greeting sounded. A squeal of pain followed in response. The suffering emanating from within pulled Talitha into the cave.

Her eyes swiftly adjusted to the dimness. The opening dipped back only a few yards into the rock. At the furthest point, the stallion stood beside his mate. The pregnant mare, who was scarcely taller than a pony, rested on the leaf-littered floor. Her puffs of breath clearly indicated her fatigue from a labor that had been unproductive. Talitha set her staff against the rock wall, then knelt by the distressed unicorn. She placed her hand along the mare's graceful neck. "I will aid you," she said, knowing that the magic she wielded had made her words understood.

"Talitha, can you truly assist this creature?" The tiger dropped down beside her. His tense posture reflected both his concern and his doubts.

As she physically examined the mare, the mystic replied, "Although I have had no specific experience healing her kind, she is similar in form to the i'k'ta of Thundera. My father owned a herd of such beasts. I watched him deliver many little ones."

"Can I help?" Compassion had replaced the anger and pride that had afflicted his deep voice. The mystic's unhappiness at his earlier display evaporated. Talitha touched his wrist in a gesture of affection. "I'll instruct you as is necessary." The tiger nodded and moved back so that she could work without hindrance.

The mare's problem was obvious. Only the nose of the foal poked through the unicorn's genital opening. Had the presentation been normal, its legs would have also been visible. Talitha rolled up the soggy sleeves of her tunic. She took a small ceramic jar from her healer's pouch and loosened the leather that kept the pot closed. Opening the lid, she dipped her fingers into the creamy herbal mixture and began to smear it over her arms. As she continued her preparations, she said to Tygra, "You can tell me how the foal's legs lie within her body if you do a scan of her birth canal. As I move them with my hands into the correct position, you can monitor my actions."

"Understood." Without delay, the tiger slowed his breathing and entered into the healing state. The blue light of his power flowed from his hands and spread over the mare. Within a few seconds, he gave his report telepathically to the mystic. *The forelegs are folded. The vital signs of both foal and mare are good.*

Talitha sighed in relief. The hard labor had not killed the little unicorn. The readjustment of its body that she had to perform was troublesome, but not impossible. Her father had dealt with far worse presentations.

Curbing her revulsion by focusing her mind, Talitha worked her hand into the mare's vagina after a contraction. She felt for a knee and brought one leg forward.

*Excellent! Your movements were flawless,* the tiger responded.

Hoping to achieve the same effect with the foal's other leg before another contraction ensued, Talitha groped for its knee. Finding her target, she swiftly made the adjustment.

*Withdraw! A contraction comes!*

Talitha pulled her soiled hand free. The mare squealed. In two rapid spurts, the foal shot out of the unicorn's body and onto the mystic. The hornless foal gave a spasmodic gasp and began to breathe before Talitha moved him off her lap. The utter confusion on the wide-eyed youngster's countenance made her laugh despite her disarray. The stallion snorted his approval. Bending her neck, the mare gave her offspring a welcoming nicker.

Tygra ceased his scan. Smiling, he said, "Well done!"

Assessing the state of her ruined clothing, Talitha ignored his praise and replied, "Not a great price to pay for a healthy delivery."

Clearly excited by what he had witnessed, Tygra asked, "Shall we cut the umbilical cord? And what of the afterbirth? The female must still deliver that."

Talitha shoved the architect with her bloodied hand. "Let us all have a moment's peace!" The tiger fell back in surprise onto the pile of dry leaves. Satisfied that she had momentarily quelled his concerns, the mystic leaned against the wall of the cave. "For now, just watch. Little Star is tired, but strong, and like any new mother, she knows what to do."

*****

Under twilight's shadows, cold, driving rain once again battered the windows of the mystic's temporary home. Talitha glanced at the wet panes. Lightning illuminated the darkening greyness outside the cottage. Feels more like autumn than summer, she decided with a shiver.

Towel in hand, the tigress opened the metal door to the oven. Within the chamber, four loaves lay on the baking stone. The glowing coals behind them radiated a welcome heat that spilt into the cozy room. Using a wooden paddle, the mystic lifted the braided loaves out of the oven and placed them on a metal rack arranged on the table.

"Smells wonderful!" Tygra exclaimed.

"They need to cool, so you'd best be patient. In any case, we will not have any before dinner. This bread will nicely complement the wine, cheese and vegetables that I have selected for our repast."

Without leaving his chair, the tiger reached for a branch in the wood bin. He tossed it onto the low blaze that glowed within the fireplace. Except for the ak'ti that covered his loins, he was naked. The flickering light from the hearth and the candles scattered about the room glinted off his fur and deepened the red tones in his rich orange pelt. "You know how impatient I am by nature," he complained. "This is torture. My empty stomach protests."

"Keep to your task and the time will pass," Talitha remarked. She seated herself across from her lover. She added with a hint of contempt, "I don't understand why it is taking you longer to wash than it took me." The folds of her clean, loose robe draped smoothly over the curved wood of the chair. She raised her feet and rested them on an ottoman embroidered with Tabbot designs.

Her lover raised an eyebrow at her comments. "I dallied because it was a delight to watch you move about this fine dwelling as if you truly were the mistress of the house. You have a flare for the domestic, my tigress."

The mystic kicked off a slipper in scorn. The suede shoe flew past the dodging tiger's ear. Without a pause, he continued scrubbing his muddied fur with a cloth. When he finished with his ablution, he dipped the linen into a water basin, then rung it out. He laid the fabric over the edge of the metal tub to dry. Resting his hands on his lap, the tiger splayed his long legs and leaned back on the wide chair.

The anger that had contorted his face earlier in the day had not returned. After their adventure in the wood, he had not resumed his interrogation. The mystic was unsure as to what had prompted the sudden change, but for the first sun in many, the architect seemed to be genuinely relaxed. She bit her lower lip in frustration. There were so many things she wanted to discuss with him, yet she had no desire to spoil his contentment.

The alluring timbre of his baritone voice distracted her from her dilemma. "Do you think that the unicorn and her new son will be well? We gave them preventative healing before leaving, but should we have stayed and monitored them?"

"We were no longer needed. Little Star skillfully attended to herself and her son after he was finally born. The first responsibility of a unicorn guardian is to ensure that the creatures she protects stay wild and free."

"That foal, as well as his mother, would have certainly died had you not intervened."

"Help was requested, and as you are well aware, all rules are made to be broken."

Tygra took a deep breath, then said, "The gods be praised that we completed our work before your bread dough was ruined."

"Filling your belly is more important to you than healing," she chided as she considered flipping the other shoe at him.

The tiger lowered his eyes, and grinned sheepishly. "Blame my northern blood, a gift from my ancestors. Although a southerner, I have inherited the appetite of that other fierce race of tigers. Besides, you know I have a weakness for your cooking." He looked to the low flames, and his mood shifted. The slight smile disappeared. He said softly, "I apologize for my temperamental outburst. I was surprised by your leaving, but I really wasn't angry with you."

"That's hard to believe considering what you said," Talitha retorted.

The tiger shrugged. "Lion-o would not let me leave the Lair until I had solved the problem that I had created within the internal systems." He rubbed his eyes, then blinked. "It took more time than I anticipated to correct the error that I had introduced. With each delay, I became more irritated with the world, and that, by definition, included you." He hesitated. "My eyes...." The tiger waved his hand as if to erase what he had begun to say.

"Your vision is not what it once was," Talitha replied calmly.

"How long have you known?"

"Probably as long as you. You experienced the change only after you returned to the Lair."

The tiger nodded thoughtfully. "I first noticed the problem when reading. I needed to hold the book at a distance to see the words clearly. I've tried to deny the change, but lately, even using the computer has become difficult." The sad turn of his mouth reflected his pain. "Despite my medical training, I've been at a loss to explain the deterioration, and I have been too afraid to ask your opinion for fear of what you might say."

Her remaining shoe fell off her foot as the mystic moved from chair to ottoman. She reached for the architect. His strong, warm hands gingerly clasped her own. He gave her a weak smile. "Whenever you offer therapeutic touch, I know the matter is grave."

She stroked the top of his hand, making small circles with each movement. "I've considered your condition, and I believe that it has to do with your ability to read the aura. As you know from her journals, your mother possessed this additional ability. What you don't know is that as Servalla proceeded into middle age, she too became far-sighted. Because of her stubborn pride, she never deigned to wear glasses. I had learned from white tigers who were not mystics, but who could read the aura, that this side effect sometimes occurred with aura readers. The timing was unpredictable. Sometimes the change happened quite early in the development of one's power, sometimes quite late."

"Your analysis is logical." His hands tightened. "I cannot tap into this new power as I choose, rather it comes and goes as it wills. The books that you and Servalla brought to Third Earth do not address the control of such a gift, and neither do the tomes in the royal library. If what you suggest is true, it appears that it also brings me affliction."

"Peace, dear one. We will work together on taming this power. A mystic who also possesses the aura sight is truly blessed." She had kept her tone measured. Forgive me, Tygra, she thought with guilt, for not revealing the entire truth to you. Although the aura sight never leaves, some who are blessed with this gift, and who also develop farsightedness, will eventually become blind.

Talitha kissed his hands lightly. "Will you allow me to distract you from your troubles," she purred.

Tygra said seriously. "My troubles are legion. I cannot in good conscience allow you to work so hard."

"I refuse to believe that you have so many problems," she countered. "If anything, you have been pampered since your return."

The architect rubbed the corners of his jaw. "The fur beneath my ears thickens. That is why I have been plagued with this awful itch. Do you realize what this means?"

The mystic had to admit to herself that her lover had asked a question so cryptic that she had no answer for him. That he had seemingly posed it as an excuse to deny her love aggravated her. The flame of romance that she had tried to spark had failed to ignite. "I haven't an idea," she replied coolly, "as to what in the Goddess-blessed universe you are talking about."

"I, at the still youthful age of 31, am coming into my ruff," he remarked with bitterness. "How long will it be before my jawline disappears completely under its whiteness is anyone's guess."

Her patience snapped. "Is this what you consider so grave!" she exclaimed, leaping to her feet. "You are not only proud, but vain!" She stalked toward the bedroom in a rage.

A tall orange-black shape blocked her path. "Out of my way!" she shouted to the obstacle.

"Talitha, listen--"

She curled her hands into fists and began to pummel the tiger's chest. Tygra grabbed her hands and held them fast. She had no weapon against his superior strength or size. Without any hope of winning the ill-matched contest, she suddenly began to cry, the many suns of loneliness and suffering having finally bested her.

"Fifty demons," Tygra said, releasing her, then lifting the mystic off her feet. He pressed her close to his body. "Please don't cry. Your tears are like knives. What I related is true, Talitha, but I meant it as jest against myself. How very sorry I am for the misunderstanding I have caused."

And how could I have been so wrong! The salt from her tears mingled with the musky fragrance of his fur. Her desire for him surged and smothered her ill-founded anger. His love for her, usually quiet and abiding, now smoldered undeniably like hot coals in the depths of his amber eyes. She noted the angularity of his jaw, and imagined it softened by a rim of new white fur. The image she conjured in her mind only served to deepen her ardor. She ran her finger along the length of his jaw. "When your ruff comes in, you will only grow more handsome, Tygra."

"Flatterer," he sighed, setting her down. Not willing to relinquish his touch, the mystic kept a tight grip on his wrist. The tiger gave a throaty chuckle. "I admire your persistence," he commented wryly. "Do you intend to secure me to a bedpost so that I cannot escape your embrace?"

She caressed his muscular chest and flat abdomen, then deftly slid her hand into the front of his ak'ti. "It was something I definitely considered," she stated as she felt his maleness.

His flesh hardened quickly, straining the thin strip of fabric. Tygra moaned, "Temptress, give me release."

The mystic tugged at his loin cloth. The flimsy fabric gave way. "See. Easily done," she said, loosely wrapping the cloth over his penis like a banner.

Bending over, the tiger puffed in her ear, "That's not what I meant."

His desire hammered at the walls of her resistance and sought a oneness that went beyond the physical. His feelings flitted like moths against the window of her soul and begged entrance. No. Although I burn with desire, I shall keep myself a little longer, she decided. Let him sizzle as I have these many suns. It will heighten his pleasure.

Reaching up, she stroked the length of his nose. "Whatever did you mean then?" she asked innocently. Before he could seize her, she darted past him and ran into the bedroom.

Ak'ti flying to the floor, Tygra pursued her. "Talitha, I--hhmpf!" The pillow that she had flung had hit him square in the face and busted a seam. He spit some feathers from his mouth. The tigress laughed so heartily that she fell onto bed. "I have you!" the Thundercat trumpeted, lunging for the helpless mystic.

The air snapped with the sound of braking bed slats. Feathers from another ripped pillow fell like rain. The two Thunderans sank into the sagging mattress. The straw fill crackled with each floundering movement that they made. The last slat sundered. The mattress fell beneath the wooden frame, and came to rest on the floor.

When the bedding stopped moving, Talitha brushed a lock of her long mane away from her face, and looked to her lover upon whose chest she sprawled. His bristling fur and stunned expression gave him the appearance of a bewildered fowl. She plucked a feather out of his mane and tickled his ear with it. "Is bed breaking a southern ritual, elder?" she queried. The fact that in their enthusiasm they had accidentally destroyed the starborns' bed haunted but a small corner of her thoughts.

His eyes focused, but did not lose their wildness. Grinning fiercely, he said, "It was a practice for which my family was acclaimed!" Tygra wrenched the neckline of her robe, and drew her close. In an instant, his lips found hers. His tongue slithered in her mouth, a serpent toying with its prey before the strike. She eagerly matched him in the lingual battle until, in need of breath, they parted.

The mystic straightened and arranged herself more to her liking on his torso. She unfastened the cloth belt that had kept her gown closed. The black crystal on her silver necklace sparkled in the candlelight. "It pleases me that you honor me by wearing my gift," Tygra murmured. He raised the hem of her robe and slipped his hands under the fine yellow silk. He gave attention to her hips and thighs. Proceeding upward, he gently massaged the slight curve of her belly. "Were your contours always this delightful?" he asked. "Can it be possible that you have only grown in beauty since I was away?"

Although pleased by the compliment, Talitha frowned. She replied with self-consciousness, "Carrying our daughter has made changes in me that cannot be undone."

Tygra cupped her breasts, and held her as gently as the frailest blossom. *You have attained perfection!*

His sending warmed her with his sincerity and weakened the barrier to his advances. *I welcome you home, Tygra.*

*Surround me with your purity, dearest one. Fill me completely with your healing, and make me whole once more.*

The yellow silk drifted away on the wind of their desire. The colors of their fur created a living painting from the intertwining of their bodies. The boundaries of self disappeared until one soul alone existed within the merged forms that reached for the portal unlocked only by love.

Triumphant roars heralded the blended soul's passage through the door that had promised pleasure, but at the price of release. One became two once more. The parting tinged the lover's satisfaction with sadness at the dissolution of completion and the return to psychic isolation. For a time, they rested quietly together and savored the pleasant fatigue born of joining.

Absently tracing with her finger the dividing line between the white and orange fur of Tygra's chest, Talitha counted his heartbeats and noted with amusement the matching pulses his penis still made within her body. The rumbling of his stomach sounded like a discordant drum. His voice, partially filtered through the mass of his torso, rang deep. "If you are not tempting me with love, it is with food," he complained. "How much longer will you continue to torment me? I am starving!"

She thumped his ribs as if testing the ripeness of a melon. "Thanks to Snarf's cooking, your bones are no longer visible through your flesh. I have to admit that you are still a little thinner than I'd like to see, but I would hardly say that you are starving."

"Mystic sympathy is highly overrated!"

Talitha raised herself up and looked down upon her pouting lover. The shifting candlelight gave the illusion of movement to his black stripes. Despite his protests, their loving had smoothed away the tension that had tightened his face. "The bread has not yet had sufficient time to cool," she cajoled. The tigress bent over and licked the orange patch of fur on his forehead. "Until the loaves are ready, satisfy your craving with my mounds. I taste of spice and salt, and I am not fattening in the least."

Within her chamber, his sagging maleness firmed. Tygra blew on her nipples and made them hard. "I suppose you will have to do for now," he remarked, fighting back a smile.

Talitha promised, "And next time I won't forget the cream."

*****

Moon staff in hand, the barefoot mystic tread carefully over the uneven ground, ever mindful of the presence of stones on which she could injure her toes. The danger seemed a small price to pay for enjoying the feel of the long blades of grass under her feet. The sweep of her robe, moistened by her river-dampened fur, stirred the flowering plants. Its repose disturbed, an iridescent moth circled her. It landed on the string of fish that she carried, but responding to the odor, quickly fluttered away.

The land, glowing with the light of early morning, echoed with the sounds of late summer. High up in the trees, the insects screeched. The leaves rustled with the movement of wings.

The mystic had taken a circuitous route from the River to indulge herself in the beauty of the day and to check on the unicorn herd before returning to the starborns' dwelling. The cottage and stable finally appeared where the line of trees thinned and met the plain. Talitha opened the door slowly, so as not to make the hinges creak, then tip-toed inside. Laughing to herself, she decided that she really had no need of caution. The roaring snores that came from the bedroom indicated quite convincingly that, without intervention, her lover would not awaken before the sun reached its zenith. She put the staff against the wall and dropped her catch on the table. The mystic then went into the adjoining chamber to check on the tiger.

The architect still lay on the mattress in the same angled position as he had assumed at dawn. His left leg and arm draped over the bed frame. His head almost dipped off the edge of the bedding. The twisted sheet barely covered him. Kneeling at the side of the broken bed, she leaned over and kissed the tiger's nose. Tygra mumbled in the middle of a snore, then rolled onto his side. He drew his body into a ball, his face half-buried in the mattress, his buttocks exposed to the light of day. "Too much of loving and eating, dear one," she whispered impishly into his ear. "Maybe I should have mentioned the rumors about consuming an abundance of snake bread before I served it to you, but you devoured the first loaf completely before I could inform you!" Talitha reached for his shoulder, but drew back. "I shall be kind and let you sleep. I must prepare breakfast anyway." A particularly resonant snore affirmed the correctness of her decision.

Vulnerable as he was in his state of disarray, he became especially appealing to her. Her desire for him crept upon her unexpectedly. The mystic slapped her hand lightly. "Talitha, he'll be better able to perform if you give him a few hours to recover from yesterday's pleasures." Reaching down, she untwisted one edge of the sheet and covered him as best as she could. "Be at peace, dear one," she murmured. "For now."

She moved quietly back into the main room. The dull-eyed fish looked at her blankly. She opened the aging recipe book, and read aloud to herself. "Aquatic Delight. A splendid fish dinner from the exotic eastern lands, this meal is guaranteed to drive a man to his wife's bed in thanksgiving and in recognition of her culinary skill." The mystic picked up one fish by its tail. Her brow furrowed seriously in contemplation, but was at odds with her fit of giggling. Composing herself, she said with mock solemnity, "If this meal fires Tygra's passions as well as the two loaves of snake bread that he consumed, he could, although the chance is infinitesimal, conceivably die of exhaustion brought on by excessive lovemaking." A series of sharp grumble-snores emanating from the bedroom punctuated her remark.

Using a long knife, Talitha sliced the head off the fish. Flicking the remains into a bucket, she vowed, "As a mystic, I will be sure to protect him from this grave, although remote, danger by monitoring his consumption of the feast that I have planned." She grabbed another fish and said to it with amusement before decapitating it, "However, all things taken into account, I suppose there are worse ways to die."